Dear Katie

Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers.
The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently.
They’re not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo.
You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About
the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things.
They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as
the crazy ones, we see genius.
Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.

Yours,
Boyd Cape.

[link]

Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won't know for twenty years. And you'll never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it's what you create. Even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope for something good to come along. Something to make you feel connected, to make you feel whole, to make you feel loved. And the truth is I'm so angry and the truth is I'm so fucking sad, and the truth is I've been so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long have been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own, and their own is too overwhelming to allow them to listen to or care about mine. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.

See you soon [link]

x

Alright. Well, in all honesty, I don't feel that what I've done is a crime.
And I think it's illogical and irresponsible for you to sentence me to
prison. Because, when you think about it, what did I really do? I crossed
an imaginary line with a bunch of plants. I mean, you say I'm an outlaw,
you say I'm a thief, but where's the Christmas dinner for the people
on relief? Huh? You say you're looking for someone who's never weak
but always strong, to gather flowers constantly whether you are right
or wrong, someone to open each and every door, but it ain't me, babe,
huh? No, no, no, it ain't me, babe. It ain't me you're looking for, babe.
You follow?

The answers are found at [link]

x

"Sometimes we're on a collision course, and we just don't know it. Whether it's by accident or by design, there's not a thing we can do about it. A woman in Paris was on her way to go shopping, but she had forgotten her coat - went back to get it. When she had gotten her coat, the phone had rung, so she'd stopped to answer it; talked for a couple of minutes. While the woman was on the phone, Abigail was rehearsing for a performance at the Paris Opera House. And while she was rehearsing, the woman, off the phone now, had gone outside to get a taxi. Now a taxi driver had dropped off a fare earlier and had stopped to get a cup of coffee. And all the while, Abigail was rehearsing. And this cab driver, who dropped off the earlier fare; who'd stopped to get the cup of coffee, had picked up the lady who was going to shopping, and had missed getting an earlier cab. The taxi had to stop for a man crossing the street, who had left for work five minutes later than he normally did, because he forgot to set off his alarm. While that man, late for work, was crossing the street, Abigail had finished rehearsing, and was taking a shower. And while Abigail was showering, the taxi was waiting outside a boutique for the woman to pick up a package, which hadn't been wrapped yet, because the girl who was supposed to wrap it had broken up with her boyfriend the night before, and forgot. When the package was wrapped, the woman, who was back in the cab, was blocked by a delivery truck, all the while Abigail was getting dressed. The delivery truck pulled away and the taxi was able to move, while Abigail, the last to be dressed, waited for one of her friends, who had broken a shoelace. While the taxi was stopped, waiting for a traffic light, Abigail and her friend came out the back of the theater. And if only one thing had happened differently: if that shoelace hadn't broken; or that delivery truck had moved moments earlier; or that package had been wrapped and ready, because the girl hadn't broken up with her boyfriend; or that man had set his alarm and got up five minutes earlier; or that taxi driver hadn't stopped for a cup of coffee; or that woman had remembered her coat, and got into an earlier cab, Abigail and her friend would've crossed the street, and the taxi would've driven by. But life being what it is - a series of intersecting lives and incidents, out of anyone's control - that taxi did not go by, and that driver was momentarily distracted, and that taxi hit Abigail, and her leg was crushed."

I love you.

What?! A Journal?

Well I'm not normally one to do the whole journal thing. At least not on this account...
But I guess I can't deny I'm happy that I finally got a few views. I don't advertise this account at all so I don't expect much. It's more for me than anybody else. But of course if I am uploading anything it's because I want to show off or get critique for myself. I enjoy what I do and views do make me pleased. Hopefully we'll see another 1000 views quicker than 10 months!

Go and visit my Kutt-Out Studios and give some support and feedback.

Much love.
Billy

_{Go read Watchmen, then we can be friends.}